


Tag, You're It

by purplejellosg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Romance and Fluff, romance and angst, samjackshipday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejellosg1/pseuds/purplejellosg1
Summary: Five moments in Sam and Jack's story. Written for the dog tags prompt for SamJackShipDay 2020. Spoilers for Solitudes, A Matter of Time, Abyss.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Tag, You're It

#

The First Time – Solitudes

Lying beside him, over him, trying to keep her body from shivering with the cold, Sam let her hand rest over the uniform of the unconscious Colonel under the sleeping bag. She tried to feel for his heartbeat but couldn't, her own hands too numb to feel anything between the cold, damp layers between her skin and his.

The chain of his dog tags tangled around her gloved fingers.

"Sara."

"I'm here, Jack."

"Cold."

"It's alright. You can sleep now." She waited to see if he would speak again, resigning herself to never hearing his voice again when he didn't. "It was an honour serving with you, too, Colonel."

Clutching the chain of the dog tags, Sam allowed herself to fall asleep, knowing there was every chance she wouldn't wake up.

Only… she did.

Sometime later, she didn't know how long, she felt someone prying her from the Colonel's side. Her fingers were still tangled up in his dog tags, and it was the act of someone trying to untangle them and struggling with their own heavily gloved hand that caused her to stir.

"Easy, Captain," the unknown person murmured. "We've got you."

She clung for a moment more to the dog tags, not comprehending for a moment and not willing to relinquish her last link with her Colonel. Before her mind could make sense of what was happening, she slipped into blissful oblivion again.

#

The Second Time – A Matter of Time

It was ridiculous to feel weighted down by two sets of dog tags. They were designed to be light, unnoticeable even. They weighed next to nothing, and she wore her own set day after day without giving them a second thought.

So how did the weight of Colonel O'Neill and Colonel Cromwell's dog tags feel so heavy in her palm? Why, when she slipped them into her pocket for safekeeping, could she feel their presence like a tangible thing, a rock or stone she couldn't ignore?

She watched as they inched closer to the Stargate, her heart in her mouth.

The dog tags burning a hole in her pocket.

She watched, her breath caught, as it played out in front of her in painful slow motion.

She watched Frank Cromwell make the ultimate sacrifice and give his life for his country.

She closed her eyes for a moment after that, unable to watch to see if her Colonel did the same.

Returning the dog tags was bittersweet; on one hand, she felt relief that Colonel O'Neill had survived. On the other, she felt guilty that Cromwell had joined Captain Boyd and his team in being victims of the phenomena she'd once found fascinating.

"Sir," she said, holding out both sets of tags.

Jack paused in tying his laces to look up at her; he hadn't heard her enter the locker room, hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings in his need to finish getting dressed so he could go home. He looked at the tags in her hand, then back up her. "Carter."

"I thought you'd want these."

Both sets. It was selfish, but she couldn't hold onto them for a minute longer.

Couldn't keep the reminder of what she perceived as her failure to foresee the risks of observing the black hole.

"Right." He reached out for them, his fingers brushing against her palm for a moment longer than necessary. "You okay, Carter?"

No, she thought as tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away, tensed her shoulders and jerked her head. "Yes, Sir. Should I not be asking you that question?"

"I'm fine." His response was automatic, almost defensive. It was the answer she would've given herself had she been in his situation.

"Yeah." She cleared her throat, aware she'd been staring at him staring at the tags in his hand. "Good night, Colonel."

"Night, Carter."

She turned on her heel and forced herself to leave the room before she could do or say something she would later regret.

#

The Third Time – Abyss

They'd removed his tags before he'd been taken by the Tok'ra for implantation.

Implantation. She hated that word.

She hated that she'd asked him to do it, hated that he'd said yes because of her.

Hated that she'd been too selfish to let him go and now… now he was out there somewhere, lost to her anyway, the victim of unthinkable things.

Things she thought about anyway, whenever she felt her eyes slip closed or let her mind wander. She tightened her grip on the tags she'd kept, squeezing them until she could feel their edges digging into the flesh of her palm.

They would leave an indent, but she didn't care. Even if it somehow scarred her palm, it wouldn't matter.

It wasn't as if her heart wasn't scarred already.

Even if – when – he came back, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. She'd asked him to do the unthinkable, pleaded with him…

She wasn't going to deny it; he'd said yes because it was her doing the asking. And no matter what the outcome, she would never forgive herself for that. She'd put her own needs before his, used the power she knew she somehow still wielded over him to bend his will to hers.

The thought of it made her sick. Even if he hadn't had the misfortune to receive a Tok'ra symbiote who had unfinished business with Ba'al, she'd asked him to do the one thing she knew he would have hated the most. He'd said more than once that he'd rather take a bullet to the brain than a snake to the head.

But he had done.

For her.

Because of her.

No, she'd never be able to forgive herself for that. Nor would she be able to blame him if he couldn't forgive her, either.

#

The Fourth Time – Atlantis

Unpacking her bags as methodically as she'd packed them, Sam knew the only way to ward off the lingering sense of homesickness was to keep herself busy. She made a mental to do list as she moved from her bed to the dresser and back again, not needing to think much about her actions.

She'd unpack and then she'd go to Elizabeth's – her – office. She'd familiarise herself with the filing system, catch up on the most recent mission reports, and study the layout of the city so she didn't find herself getting lost in its endless hallways.

She'd arrange meetings with the department heads, and ask for comprehensive status updates so she could compile it in all in her report and have a baseline against which she could monitor performance and progress while she was there.

She would…

"What?" Her hands encountered a package she hadn't been expecting, one neatly wrapped… in Christmas gift wrap? She frowned and pulled the package out of her bag. Wrapped in the same Christmas gift wrap as the Christmas presents she'd been given by Jack the previous year.

A smile broke out across her face and she turned it over in her hands, catching a glimpse of the gift tag that made her chuckle – Homer Simpson in a Santa's hat, because what else would he use?

'Sam,

Sorry about the gift wrap.

Thought you might want some home comforts.

Stay safe,

Jack'

Her eyes stung even as a soft smile curved her mouth. She carefully detached the tag, sentimentally keeping it as a memento of her relationship with Jack. Her memory box of bits and pieces was rapidly growing; she'd been embarrassed by it at first, when Jack had found it under her side of the bed in his DC apartment. He'd just smiled that soft smile of his, his brown eyes warm and tender, and had shown her the box he kept at the bottom of his side of the closet.

Pushing away the pang of longing she felt, the sense of loneliness, she carefully tore open the paper and started to explore what was inside.

Framed photographs, more than what she'd decided to bring with her. The ones she'd selected were the kind no one could question; an official shot of the original SG-1, one each of Daniel, Teal'c and Cassie. One of Jack that she'd decided beforehand would be staying in her quarters.

He had decided to supplement her collection with a couple of his choosing; there was one of the whole team plus Janet and Cassie at a rare team barbeque. One of her and her father. Two of herself and Jack together; one taken while they were at the cabin, and the other… The other was taken at her impromptu going away gathering.

It was taken by Daniel, capturing the moment Jack had asked her to marry him when she returned from her tour in Atlantis.

Underneath the photographs was a small wrapped item. Her brow furrowed as she unwrapped it, deepening when she saw what it was.

Jack's dog tags, with another hastily scrawled note.

'Don't have much use for these in DC. Keep them close, Carter, and bring them home safe.'

The first tear slid down her cheek and she closed her fingers around the tags.

She'd keep them safe, she vowed, and she'd make it back home to return them to their rightful owner.

#

The Fifth Time – You're It

It wasn't often he woke up along these days. He was used to waking up early, but slowly, with the warmth of his wife tucked up against him.

His wife.

A grin he made no effort to contain broke across his face even as he opened his eyes and confirmed that, yup, he was alone in their bed. He'd never get tired of referring to Sam as his wife, whether internally or out loud.

His Sam, his Carter, was now and forever his wife.

The ring on his finger was relatively new but he couldn't imagine it not being there. He was already used to its weight, already accustomed to feeling it, fidgeting with it.

He rolled onto his back. Stretched languorously.

Arched an eyebrow when the action caused something to fall off her pillow and onto the sheet beside him.

Dog tags.

He didn't think they were his; his were stored safely in their combined memory box under the bed, but he picked them up to study them just in case. He frowned, reading the name.

Carter, Samantha.

Why had she left her dog tags at home? Oh, he knew – thankfully – that the chances of her going off-world and needing to be identified by them was slim to none. Thankfully. As base commander, Sam didn't get to go off-world very often anymore. It was a source of ongoing relief for him after having to sit by and wait for her to come home, first from her stint as the leader in Atlantis and then following her command of the George Hammond. Though her work at the SGC didn't mean she got to work the usual 9 to 5, it meant she came home to him more nights than she didn't.

But why she'd leave her dog tags, not to mention on the pillow for him to find, was a mystery.

A mystery he wouldn't get to solve until she came home.

"Hey."

He stood at the grill on their decking and turned his head when he heard her. Her smile never failed to take his breath away, and his answering grin was automatic, as was the giddy sense he got from knowing she was his as much as he was hers. "Hey yourself. Good day?"

"Quiet," Sam murmured, coming up to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around his middle, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. "No drama, so it was quite good."

"Sounds pretty boring to me," he quipped, but boring was sometimes underrated.

Boring meant she could come home to him in time for dinner, and that was more than fine by him.

"Did you forget something this morning?" He asked, turning in her arms to look at her only to notice the chain peeking out from underneath the collar of her shirt. He let her kiss him but once they parted, he tugged at the chain and revealed the dog tags she wore. His brow furrowed. "You have two sets of these, Carter?"

Her grin was knowing, her eyes bright. "This set arrived on base this morning. I thought it was time they were updated."

Updated? He arched an eyebrow at that. Their dog tags didn't feature their ranks, so her recent promotion to Brigadier General didn't warrant a new set being produced.

Nothing had changed except… Ah.

The goofy grin broke out across his face even as he gently pulled the tags closer. He read the inscribed name on the sterling silver, ran his thumb over the engraving.

He kissed her again in answer to the question in her eyes, dog tags falling to rest between them as the steaks on the grill were momentarily forgotten.

Carter-O'Neill, Samantha.

In his opinion, the update was well overdue.

#

End


End file.
